


disappear here

by Here_There_Be_Kinks



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Boundaries, Canon Asexual Character, Collars, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage, Non-Sexual Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29219289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Here_There_Be_Kinks/pseuds/Here_There_Be_Kinks
Summary: “Jon? I will totally buy you one. We can totally buy one of these.”“No, I– Wait, it’s not– I, I don’t think– it’s not what you think. It’s not going to be the way you think.”“That’s okay.”“Tim–” Jon groaned. “It’s– I’m not sure it’s a– a sex thing? I’m just– curious–”“Doesn’t have to be a sex thing,” Tim said patiently.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 19
Kudos: 120





	disappear here

_“Opening his arms, he said quietly to her, ‘disappear here.’” — Jonathan Carroll_

Jon stuck close by him when they walked into the boutique. Tim didn’t mind. If he wanted to hang close to him, all wide eyed at the array of adult entertainment, then sure, Tim would let him, even if Jon didn’t quite ask to hold his hand. Not into PDA like that. Although Tim wondered if there was _much_ room for interpretation when you walked into a sex shop together, but, still, he was happy to defer to whatever Jon wanted to do. 

But, he had to tease a bit, just a bit, mostly because it looked like Jon was completely prepared to bolt at any sudden movement. “They aren’t going to swoop on you like vultures here,” Tim said, leaning over to whisper. “I literally wouldn’t go back to sex stores where they swoop.”

Jon just shushed him, like it wasn’t for polite company in the middle of a _sex shop._ But Tim figured that was more because he was distracted, overwhelmed by the array of merchandise displayed along the slatwall. Which was fair. He was pretty sure Jon had never been within fifty feet of one of these places. It was always a lot, first go.

Still, it wasn’t going to stop him from trying to get Jon somewhat into the spirit. “Come on,” he said, nodding towards an endcap, “dildos are over there.”

“I– _shut up,”_ Jon hissed, puffed up like he wanted to stalk away if, you know, that didn’t mean leaving Tim’s side. “If you’re so intrigued, _you_ buy one.”

“Maaaaybe.” Tim nudged his shoulder, and looked thoughtfully across the showroom. “I do have loyalty points.”

“Loya– Christ, Tim.” Jon sighed. “This is nowhere even _close_ to your house. You _regularly_ go so far for… this stuff.”

“Quality over distance,” he replied, and you know what? He wasn’t joking.

“Right… fine.”

“Come on,” he urged again, nudging him forward. “Dildos aside. If you see _anything_ that looks vaguely interesting–”

“Yes, yes, I know. Tell you immediately.”

“That’s it,” he agreed, and led the way forward. Jon was interested– he’d been the one to broach the subject, actually, much to Tim’s surprise– a curiosity that he was more than willing to entertain even if it meant leading him through the store. And yes, maybe he did delight a little too much in pointing out some of the more obscure toys or costumes, but mostly Jon just rolled his eyes… with that lovely permanent flush still high on his cheeks.

It was just one of those things, wasn’t it? That nervous high you got when you were about to go into an adult store for the first time. Hell, he still got a tiny reflexive rush of nerves going somewhere _new,_ but the shopkeepers were usually pretty chill and it usually ended up being worth it. So, yeah, nervous Jon, okay. That was okay! Tim just put his attention into trying to clear the tension, a bit, explaining things or making a joke here and there. Effortlessly sliding into conversation when one of the employees did drop by to ask if they were looking for anything in particular… which was about the time Jon gave him a _look_ when Tim started questioning inflatable plugs, and wandered off on his own.

It wasn’t like it would be hard to find him, anyway. The store was small but organized, and Tim found him quickly, frowning at a display of dark, leather collars hung neatly on the rows of hooks. “Hey,” he said, ignoring the tiny flinch of surprise. Still on edge, but he’d gone off on his own. That was nice. “You wandered off. Not interested in inflatable butt plugs?”

 _“No.”_ Jon scowled straight ahead. “I’m not particularly inclined towards _anything_ that’s meant to be… _inflated._ Inside me.”

“Would be fucked if it popped. Not really sure that’s a huge problem, though? I think it’d probably start leaking before it properly popped. _Anyway._ Collars!” He reached past him, hooking his finger into one of them. Proper leather, plush interior. Basic, but nice. 

“Yes.”

“I _don’t_ actually have much experience with them,” Tim said, “but, hey, if you want me to collar you up, all you have to do is ask.” Wink wink, nudge nudge, except Jon didn’t… splutter off like Tim had expected him to. Oh, he was still red in the face– or was he just blushing _again?_ Tim didn’t know for sure. But no immediate rebuttal and, oh. Oh? “Jon?” he prompted, leaning around to see his face properly. “I will totally buy you one. We can totally buy one of these.”

“No, I–” Jon grabbed a hold of his wrist as he reached for one of the plainest ones. “Wait, it’s not– I, I don’t think– it’s not what you think. It’s not going to be the way you think.”

“That’s okay.”

“Tim–” Jon groaned, fingers tightening around his wrist. “It’s– I’m not sure it’s a– a _sex_ thing? I’m just– curious–”

“Doesn’t have to be a sex thing,” Tim said patiently, gently pulling his hand away. Jon let go. “Literally nowhere does it say it has to be a sex thing.”

“This is a sex _shop.”_

“Yeah, and they sell lingerie, which doesn’t _technically_ have to be a sex thing. That can be a purely feel-good thing. Collars don’t have to mean sex, either.”

“I’m… not even sure it means kink,” Jon murmured. “I don’t– I’m not interested in… I don’t know, being your–”

He was struggling again; Tim took pity. “Pet?” he asked, and Jon looked both relieved and horrified.

“Yes. That. Which I feel like _collars_ might be an implication of–”

“Jon,” he interrupted, reaching to take his hand proper. “Listen. It’s _super_ not about sex or even necessarily pet play. Eyeball me all you like, but it’s true. For you, it’s… you’re curious, right? You wanna know how it feels. And it doesn’t have to be more than that. I swear.”

“I… Christ,” Jon breathed. “What am I thinking?”

“You’re thinking you found something you’re interested in! And you didn’t have to, but you _did,_ so let’s _buy_ one.”

“Don’t spend your cheque on something I’ll probably wear once.”

“I want to spend my cheque on nice things. For you. And if you don’t like it, no pressure. _I’ll_ take it from your hands if not, how’s that? You won’t even have to look at it again. Unless you want to.”

“I…” Jon chewed his lip, and then raised his chin back to the display of collars. He freed his hand again, but this time to reach up and gently touch the collar Tim had been reaching for. “You were going for this one…?”

“Yeah,” Tim agreed. “If you like it. I think it’s probably the least obtrusive one? And it’s not super wide. _And_ plain has a certain elegance, you know? I definitely like it. You?”

“I… yes,” Jon agreed. “They all… kind of look similar? But I like that there’s no studs. Or… nicknames.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “D-ring’s a normal size, too. Can always attach a leash if you want, but it’s not in your face either way. And it’s really nice with the lining.” He hooked his fingers around it, gently taking it from Jon. “It’s definitely a nice, solid collar for sure.”

“I can’t believe that’s a sentence I prompted you into saying.”

“You didn’t prompt me into anything. Compelling as you are, boss, I _do_ say plenty of things on my own free will.” A mocking tap of his fist to Jon’s shoulder, and then he carried on, “c’mon. Let’s keep looking.”

“Fine.” He was still all tense again, but again, a little expected. Tim let him, and held onto the collar on his own. “Lead on,” Jon said.

Tim wondered if he was imagining the double entendre. He decided not to bring it up, for now, and just led on.

* * *

“Jon. Why’re you so tense?”

“Because it’s not exactly a relaxing situation, is it?”

“Jon,” Tim repeated, “if you don’t want to–”

“It’s not that kind of anxiety. Really.”

He trusted him. There was no force on earth that could make Jonathan Sims be _open_ about anything involving sex, but they’d definitely talked boundaries and safe words a lot. So he believed him when he said he was okay. First time jitters, right? But that didn’t mean he just wanted to slap the thing around Jon’s neck and send him off while he made dinner. “Okay,” he said slowly. “You know you’re totally able to take it off if you want to.” Putting the collar down, Tim rest his hands on Jon’s shoulders instead, and squeezed. “It’s an easy one-person job.”

“Moot,” Jon said, “seeing as how you haven’t even put it _on_ me–” Tim dug his thumbs in, just below his shoulderblades. “Ngh– Christ.”

“Yeah. _Tense.”_ He did it again, laughing as Jon first grumbled, and then sagged into the pressure.

“You don’t have to give me a massage, Tim.”

“What? This. Nah, I just like having my hands on you.”

_“Tim.”_

“Shhh. Relax, boss.”

“I am relaxed as I’m going to get.”

Tim knew that was moot, too– hell, _Jon_ knew it was moot. He was good with his hands, good with massage long before he’d started giving them to Jon. But they both knew how completely straight to putty he could turn him, if he was really trying. The timing wasn’t really right for all of that now, but give him a couple more seconds of working these knots in Jon’s back…

“Feeling okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Feeling _better?”_

“Yes,” Jon admitted, pressing back into Tim’s hands. “Thank you. I’m just…”

“Perpetually on edge?”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s not.” He pecked a kiss against Jon’s jaw and pulled back. “I was making an observation. Not a joke.” He plucked the collar from the cushion. “But tonight’s about relaxing. So let’s do that.” He gave Jon the fair enough warning of removing both hands from his shoulders, and then carefully looped the collar around the front of Jon’s neck. Like putting on a necklace, just a lot more, hm… reverent. And careful, always careful with Jon, but it wasn’t something Tim minded. He liked having a reason to take care.

“Alright,” he continued, asked, more like, slipping the leather through the buckle. They’d measured, of course, but he didn’t want to go proper snug just yet. “Jon?”

“Yes,” Jon said softly. “It’s, um… I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Good.” He buckled it at the first to last notch, sweeping his fingers under it. He’d never been in charge of actually collaring anyone, but he’d heard once it was two fingers for an actual dog’s collar, so, probably a good estimate. “Not too tight?” he clarified, even though there was plenty of slack.

“No. It’s…” Jon sat up a little as Tim dropped his hands. “Um. F–Foreign,” he murmured, gently reaching up to touch it. A barely there pass of his fingers, before he folded his hands back in his lap. “But, um. Not bad.”

“Do you like it?” Tim asked gently.

“I’m… not sure?” Jon breathed out, smoothing his hands along his thighs. “I don’t have much opinion, yet. But I don’t think I mind it.”

“That’s positive! So you wanna keep it on for now, or take it off?”

“I can keep it on. Uh,” he added quickly, _finally_ looking up. Nerves and embarrassment. Well, they’d get through that. “Just–”

Tim held up his hands. “No explanation necessary.”

“I’d just like to… experience it, a bit. That’s all.”

 _“Super_ reasonable,” Tim agreed. “Just letting you know you can take it as slow as you want. I’m sure you can feel the buckle, so– yeah, if you want it off, don’t even need to ask.”

“Right.”

“Right,” Tim repeated. And he’d leave it at that. Because that was all Jon wanted it to be, right now, probably. Curiosity, he’d said. Not necessarily kink. And he was super happy to leave it at that… even if it was inherently _kinky_ to him. (Oh, he liked it. A _lot._ Jon looked _proper_ hot like that. But this wasn’t about his own gratification.) “Right! Well.” He held out his hands. “You wanna cuddle? Or anything?”

“I’m not _quite_ as emotionally unstable as we predicted,” Jon said, and almost sounded… tetchy. Lord, he was bouncing back fast. Tim was so glad this had gone well. “I’ll be fine here. You can do dinner.”

“You sure? Because I can always order in–”

“And waste your food?” Jon huffed when Tim shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I… I will. Let me know if you need help with anything.”

“Fiiine, home cooked meal it is.” He kissed the top of his head and stood up, eyes lingering on the dark shock of collar only for a moment longer. “I’m going.” Best to let Jon have a moment to himself, let him process on his own. Not that leaving someone with a new experience worked for everyone, but… Jon was like that. Jon needed to feel things out on his own. Oh, don’t get him wrong, he’d definitely check in in a bit. But for now, he was pretty sure Jon just… wanted this, too. “Yell if you need me. For _anything.”_

“I… I will.” Jon ducked his head, quirking a sheepish smile at him. “Thanks, Tim. I, uh…”

He cut him off, flashing him two thumbs up before he could even try to continue hashing out an awkward display of gratitude. Jon didn’t have to thank him for that stuff; he didn’t. “We’re all good!” he said. “I’m gonna go start dinner. Enjoy your–” he gestured to the manila folders and stack of papers– “evening research crunch. Tell me if there’s proper ghosts. Or vampires. But proper ones. Like my name. Stoker ones.”

If Jon was comfortable enough to roll his eyes and shoo him away, well… Tim was _really,_ really pleased.

If he glanced over his shoulder to see Jon reach to touch the collar again, letting his fingers brush against that pretty leather, that was… that was really nice, too.

* * *

“Can you, uh…” Jon gestured vaguely at his neck. The collar had been there since before dinner and now long past it, as they’d managed to be _mostly_ normal through eating and cleanup. New awkward, but not awkward awkward, and look, Tim had been thrilled enough when Jon had wandered into the kitchen still wearing it, but… now this. 

“You want me to take it off?” he asked, looking between Jon’s face and his throat.

“Yes. I…” Tim gestured him to sit down and Jon went, sighing as he dropped onto the sofa. “It’s _stupid,_ but you put it on, so I’d rather if you took it off? I don’t know.”

“It’s not stupid.” A habitual reminder. He urged Jon back an inch and started to unbuckle it. “And I’m flattered, really.”

“Yes. Well. Don’t let it go to your head.”

“No, I’m serious.” A tug to pull it free from the buckle, and then he was able to lift it away from Jon’s throat. A cursory brush of his fingers along the bare skin there, and then he gathered Jon in his arms to cuddle down into the sofa. Jon went, lax and at ease as he settled. “Thank you for letting me,” Tim continued. “Trusting me. It’s a big deal. Even,” he added quickly, “if you’re about to say ‘it’s just a piece of leather, Tim.’” He put on his best _Jon_ accent.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You kind of do.”

Jon sort of laughed, the huff of amusement he was prone to. Tim just beamed and held him tighter, letting Jon put his head on his chest so he could rest his chin in his hair. What a good day. Jon, trying something he was interested in. A home cooked meal. _Cuddling._ Damn, he was spoiled here, more than he could ever convince Jon of otherwise.

“Did you like it, then?” he asked, eventually, watching Jon watching the collar lay there, even if he couldn’t exactly see his expression about it. “You wore it for a long while.”

“I… think?” Jon said, hesitant. “It was… nice,” he clarified. “It was nice. Almost _frighteningly_ easy to get used to, honestly, but, um. Safe, I think. It felt safe.”

“Oh.” Now it was Tim’s turn to laugh, sort of _surprised_ by Jon’s just… very reassuring answer. _Safe._ All of them, so persecuted by all their bullshit at work, Jon especially. So cautious about everything that _didn’t_ want to hurt him, but… safe. Here at Tim’s. Wearing a collar he’d more or less let Tim pick out and put on. Shit, that _was_ flattering. Honored. Maybe that was a better word, but he didn’t want to get too sappy here. “Well, I’m so glad.” He wondered if he was the only one who thought his voice sounded a bit _weird._ Emotional. But Jon didn’t mention, so it must not have, and that was _just fine_ by Tim.

Jon curled up against Tim’s chest, and Tim held him there, snug and warm and comfortable.

**Author's Note:**

> jon with nonsexual/nonkinky interests! and yeah there is definitely a minor s/d implication, but it's not something jon really grasps (yet) (even if tim does, but he wouldn't bring it up unless jon triggers it first) not to say it might not take that turn! but at the end of the day it's a comforting thing and will always be at its core 
> 
> (yeah yeah that might be implication i could write a second chapter that ventures more into sex exploration, but we'll see 😅)


End file.
